


The Dark Lord Rises

by TheCauldron



Category: Original Work
Genre: 'Dark Lord', Flirting, M/M, Non-Human Humanoid Society, Other, Propositioning, Reddit Prompt, Temporary Death (semi-graphic)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21983074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCauldron/pseuds/TheCauldron
Summary: Even Dark Lords have bath-time, and it's just rude to intrude on their self-care!
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	The Dark Lord Rises

**Author's Note:**

> Reddit Prompt by u/MyAfroIsMoist: The hero was blessed with the power to bring people back to life, resurecting [sic] their companions to keep up the fight against the dark lord. Which is why it’s odd that they brought you, the dark lord that they fought against back to life.

‘Listen, Throwback-’

‘Thorac.’

‘Whatever. The point is that you can’t just go about declaring someone to be a ‘Dark Lord’ just because you don’t like their governmental decisions! Good gods, it’s 3287 and this is the real world, not some VR High Fantasy ‘verse with elves and spells and whatnot! I don’t care if you don’t like my decisions, you can’t just barge in here and start moralising at me. There’s a _process_ to these things, starting with a bloody appointment!’

Alright, so lecturing the person who was attempting to overthrow my (mostly benevolent if you squint) monarchy on his lack of manners wasn’t my finest moment, but to be fair, I’d been enjoying a glass of rather nice Kaltreesian wine while soaking in the bathtub. The water was just the right temperature, and the bubbles had a medicinal oil that was a gift to tired skin and aching muscles, so yes, my temper might have gotten away from me slightly, but I still say shooting a man while he’s naked in the tub is a dog move. 

I was floating, looking down at my body slumped in the red stained bubbles, and trying not to think about the other mess in the water now that all of my muscles had gone slack. How humiliating. Three-hundred-years-old, ruler of sixteen galaxies, quasi-deity to another four, and I die in the bathtub at the hands of a VR obsessed moron who thinks I am, was, a literal Dark Lord just because I’d designated Sigma 35 as a prison planet and intended to use the population to mine Quintium. And fine, there was that gene-plague I’d developed that reduced anyone who carried Quall blood into cannibalistic drones, but everyone else injected with it became immune to the Skintain Pathogen which had been otherwise killing everyone it infected! And the drones didn’t know any different anymore; I gave them their own planet so they didn’t eat the rest of my subjects, and it’s not like they had the wherewithal to complain anyway.

A hand around my ankle grabbed my attention, and I found myself looking at the murderous ‘hero’. The chisel-jawed little shit was smirking at me, which probably should have set off alarm bells, but I was dead and things like adrenaline didn’t seem to be working on my incorporeal self.

‘Oh no, you don’t get away that easily.’

Thorac yanked, and swung me like a bat, slamming me back into my corpse. Which, for the record, hurt _so_ _much_. There was water and blood in my lungs, both of which were currently exposed thanks to the gaping big hole in my chest that his blaster had left. I would have yelled, but I was too busy trying not to die a second time in as many minutes. Thorac leaned over me, and stuck his hand in the wound, fingers sliding over my ruined organs. I might have objected, but where his fingers touched, I could feel the organs knitting back together and expelling any foreign matter that might have soaked in while I was enjoying my out of body experience. 

Finally, he pulled his hand free, tracing the edges of the wound and nodding in satisfaction when it sealed up without a mark. 

‘Are you ready to listen now, _Dark Lord_?’ he asked, smirking. 

My jaw jumped as I grit my teeth. With as much dignity as I could muster, I stood, letting the filthy bathwater sluice down my body. Which felt younger? Huh. 

‘I suppose I can make time for your proposal, but I do insist on a shower first. I’m afraid our earlier interactions have left something of a mess that I have no desire to soak in.’

Thorac looked at the water and wrinkled his nose.

‘Yeah, that might be best. I’m not leaving the room because I know you’ll find a way to summon your guards, but go ahead and clean off.’

As I was passing the mirror, I caught sight of myself and paused. I was definitely younger. I’d aged well prior to Thorac’s intervention, but three hundred years had taken its toll. The man in the mirror was in his prime, and I liked what I saw. Knee length white hair stained red at the ends from my blood, supple blue skin and regained muscle tone; this was the best shape I’d been in for at least a century. I cast a considering glance over my shoulder. 

‘You know,’ I mused, ‘if you’re going to be in here anyway, you may as well join me.’

Thorac raised an eyebrow. 

‘Your entourage or your shower?’

I shrugged with a smirk.

‘As the Ancient Human proverb says, why not have both?’


End file.
